Amelia Clarke finished her bath and stepped out, but Owen Moreland wasn't in the room.
This bedroom had been Owen's from childhood until adulthood; the room's furnishings were simple—a bed, a bedside table, a desk, a row of wardrobes—all with a simple, masculine style. Time had mottled the furniture with some marks, giving the impression of their age.
Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, blowing her hair dry while surveying the room.
It was her first night sleeping there, and she hadn't a clue how she'd gotten into bed. After teasing Owen in the morning, she hadn't had the chance to look carefully at what Owen's youthful living space had been like.
There was a row of books on the desk, fixed in place with bookends. The spines showed titles of high school and university textbooks. Next to the bookends were thick English, French, Italian, and Japanese-Chinese dictionaries.
